


Angels, Armies, Shadows and Dying Names

by croatoanwholock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Eventual Castiel/Dean Winchester, Gen, I don't wanna say AU, M/M, Post-Season/Series 10 Finale, basically everyone's back to fight the darkness, but I guess AU, but like what IS the darkness, there's a lot more characters showing up and i'll add them as they're introduced
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-16
Packaged: 2018-04-09 14:47:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4352966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/croatoanwholock/pseuds/croatoanwholock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Darkness is here, but trouble is nowhere to be found. Castiel is missing, and Crowley is unwilling to help. When old friends and enemies start reappearing, the brothers realize there’s a lot more to this than Heaven or Hell. Someone is out for revenge, and it's not clear whose side they're on. As the brothers face their toughest adversary yet, they're going to need a lot more help than they think.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Angels, Armies, Shadows and Dying Names

Sam wakes up to the smell of bacon sizzling in the bunker kitchen. He pulls himself out of bed and into the bathroom at the end of the hallway. His bruises are fading from deep purples and blues to green and yellows, but they still hurt to the touch. He takes a quick shower (Dean must have used up all the hot water again) and finds clothes. His brother is awake at eight thirty-five in the morning, and amazingly sober. Dean’s made enough pancakes and scrambled eggs for fifteen people.

“Coffee?” Dean asks, looking up from the frying pan. His hair is damp and combed neatly, and he even _smells_ clean. For the past year, Dean has smelt like booze, smoke, and sulfur. But ever since they released the Darkness, Dean’s been good. More than good, actually: Dean’s been himself. It’s been so long, Sam’s almost forgotten what that’s like.

Sam nods eagerly and sits down, serving himself. While eating, he absentmindedly flips through the newspaper. The silence between the two of them is comfortable. Dean taps his fork to the Led Zeppelin playing in the other room.

“Anything good?” Dean asks, mouth full of pancake.

“No. It’s almost _too_ quiet. Besides that nest of vamps in Toledo, there’s nothing. Maybe a cursed object, but it seems a bit far. Whatever this… Darkness is, it’s not in a rush to show itself.”

Dean shrugs. “Good things _do_ happen, Sammy. Maybe the universe is giving us a break. Persoanlly, I think we deserve a freaking vacation.”

Sam wants to believe his brother, he really does. But in his experience, that’s not the way the world works. So he keeps looking. He calls all of their hunting contacts – the ones who are alive – and even sends a message to old Missouri back in Lawrence. He keeps drawing blanks. Even demonic possessions and angelic drama seem to be quieter.

 

Maybe a month later, it’s Dean who notices something’s up. Sam is sifting through FBI and state police servers, trying to find anything, when Dean rushes in.

“When was the last time you heard from Cas?”

“Month or two. He’s been pretty MIA the past year or so. I mean he’s Graced up again, right?”

“Yeah but-”

“Dean, he’s a four hundred million year-old Angel of the Lord. He can take care of himself.”

Dean calls Cas at least twelve times in the next hour. He leaves voicemails every time, each one sounding more worried than the next. Finally, he picks up. Dean puts him on speakerphone.

“Cas. Where the hell have you been?”

“Your boyfriend’s out of calling range, Squirrel.” The voice on the other end of the line isn’t Cas. It’s distinctly Scottish.

“I swear to God Crowley, where is he?”

“Castiel? Your pet angel hasn’t been with me since you released the bloody Darkness. Thanks again for that, by the way. I’m with my mother at the moment. Wings left his phone and disappeared, like angels tend to do.”

“Yeah, you wanna make yourself useful?”

“No can do. I’m not touching you Winchesters or anything near that with a ten-foot pole. Besides, I don’t think I _want_ to. Rowena and I are checking out. If you want to call me, do it the old fashioned way, please. And by the old fashioned way, I mean the good old days where you weren’t aware of my existence. Thanks again for nothing, and say hello to Moose for me.”

Dean closes his flip phone angrily. “Well that sucked.”

“You wanna start looking for him?” Sam asks.

“I swear to God if anything happened to Cas…” Dean growls. The veins bulging on his arm make it obvious that he’s clenching his fists under the table. He stands up and refills his cup of whiskey. Instead of adding a finger or two, Dean fills the cup almost to the top. Against his better judgment, Sam doesn’t comment.

“Lets get to work then.”

 

The next two weeks are spent talking to every human who’s possibly dealt with anything remotely angel-y and demon-y. Dean even buys a second suit jacket so he doesn’t have to wear the same one with his FBI getup every day. Dean brings back at least a dozen demons to ‘talk to’ in the bunker’s dungeon. Sam is almost convinced that some trace of the Mark is still with his brother, but Dean doesn’t seem happy at all cutting into them. One night, Sam even catches his brother praying.

On the side, Sam starts tracking traces on Metatron. He can’t exactly tune into Angel Radio, but some of the angelic factions decided to take over actual human corporations. And computers are easy. The angel in question fell off the grid around the same time that the Darkness was released.

“So get this,” Sam says, sliding down next to his brother, “I’ve been monitoring unnatural activity for pretty much the entire continental U.S. for almost a year and a half on _this_ computer. Demonic and angelic levels are at an all-time low, but monsters – you know, like ghouls and vampires and djinns – seem to be fairly constant. Even with the Fall, and now with the Darkness. So I think that angels and demons are just completely unrelated to monsters. Now think about it: when we were with Death in the Mexican restaurant, he mentioned that the beginning of the world was pretty much the Darkness against God and the archangels. So maybe it’s not doing… nothing. The Darkness could be going after non-humans first.”

“You think that it’s angels and demons again? And maybe the reason that both sides have been so quiet is that they’re plotting?”

Sam shrugs. “Could be. Hey Dean, you think God might be getting involved?”

“I tell you what. If God’s been sitting on his ass while we’ve dealt with knights of hell, leviathans, the damn apocalypse, and more, I’m hunting him down next.”

Sam stands up and takes a deep breath. His brother’s view on faith is completely contradictory with his own. While Sam sees the existence of angels and demons as proof of something higher, Dean sees it as a sign that if there’s a God, he’s apathetic.

The doorbell to the bunker rings. Neither of the boys recognize it at first – who would possibly be here to see them? The sound chimes again, and then again. Finally, Dean stands up and grabs a gun from under the table.

“Did someone order a pizza?” Dean deadpans.

“Cas?” Sam offers, trying to remain optimistic.

Dean shrugs. “I’ll let you know in a second.”

Sam waits at the bottom of the stairs as his brother ascends up the marble spiral. He props open the inside door and then goes to unlock the outside bunker door. Sam hears Dean curse loudly, followed by a large thump. If he didn’t know better, it would sound like he had been tackled.

“Dean? Dean!” Sam shouts. There’s no answer. He sprints up the staircase, gun drawn and angel blade tucked into his belt.

Sam’s about to fire at the mysterious figure on top of his brother when he stops and takes a good look at her face. Dean isn’t being attacked; he’s being _hugged._ Sam puts the safety back on his favorite .45 and gasps.

“Charlie? You’re alive?”

“Hey, Sammy. You boys missed me?”


End file.
